


a pocketful of sunshine

by jenuyu



Series: touch the sky [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Chaebol au, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenuyu/pseuds/jenuyu
Summary: Donghyuck, quite literally, falls for Mark on the first day of school.





	1. dusk

**Author's Note:**

> i got a love  
> and i know it’s all mine

Donghyuck is late.

His phone’s out of battery and his backpack has nothing but his wallet in it, and he’s already late to the first day of school. His driver drops him off right outside the entrance but a quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s at least thirty minutes late, and there’s supposed to be an entrance ceremony that he has to be at.

Donghyuck runs straight for the auditorium. He and Jeno have a running bet going that whoever’s late to any school-sponsored activity, be it a sports day or a festival or even just a regular day of class, has to pay the other ten thousand won for every minute that he’s late. So far, it looks like Jeno’s going to get three hundred thousand won by the end of the day, and Donghyuck already hates this school year.

He’s so absorbed in calculating how he’s going to pay up that he rounds the corner and smacks straight into someone, sending them both toppling onto the ground. Donghyuck blinks, staring up into wide eyes and high cheekbones.

“Ow,” the guy he’s accidentally run into mutters before he picks himself back up, dusting off his slacks. He offers a hand to Donghyuck. “Sorry about that, let me help you up.”

Donghyuck takes it, grateful, and he pulls himself up before gathering up his fallen backpack. He lets himself stare at the guy for another two seconds before saying, “Hey, I’m really sorry about running into you, but—”

“There’s an assembly right now, you should probably be on your way. If you’re lucky, the principal’s just finished giving her welcome speech. Good luck!” The guy says, cutting him off, and Donghyuck wonders if it’s actually possible to have fallen in love at first sight because suddenly, the guy’s looking more and more attractive with every small smile that he gives Donghyuck.

Missed connections, Donghyuck thinks to himself as he races through the hallways to the auditorium. He hopes he’ll see the guy again someday.

“That’s three hundred and fifty thousand you owe me,” Jeno informs Donghyuck cheerily as he slips into his seat. When Donghyuck opens his mouth to tell Jeno to fuck off, their homeroom teacher gives them a look, the kind that means “Shut up or it’ll be detention for a week.” Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Second year has already started off on a great note.

“And now, introducing your student body president for the school year, third year student Mark Lee!” The principal announces, and when he steps aside to let the president come up to the microphone, Donghyuck immediately sinks down in his chair, which makes Jeno turn to stare at him.

It’s the guy from before.

The guy— Mark, Mark Lee, Mark Lee the third year student body president— is talking and his mouth is forming words, but Donghyuck can’t hear it. He’s too absorbed in trying to become one with the ground but also trying to lean forward at the same time so he can try to make out more of Mark’s face as if he hadn’t just been a breath away from it just five minutes prior.

“Fucking dammit,” Donghyuck mutters his breath, regretting everything about today. He regrets staying up until four to play Overwatch. He regrets forgetting to plug in his phone before sleeping. He regrets coming to school at all, and most of all, he regrets ever bumping into Mark in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Jeno hisses at him even though Mark is still talking. “What’s going on?”

“Dude, I think I’m in love,” Donghyuck says, and Jeno’s eyes widen almost comically and his mouth drops open, and their teacher says, “Lee Donghyuck! Lee Jeno! Detention!”

 

 

“Hey, did you know your life is basically a shoujo anime?” Jeno asks five seconds into detention after the teacher’s left them alone.

They’ve been busy all day with introductions and getting syllabi for every class, and they haven’t had time to talk properly until now, which reminds him. Talking to Jeno only reminds him that another thing Donghyuck regrets is ever befriending Lee Jeno, but he supposes that his five year old self didn’t have much of a choice at the time.

“Hey, did you know you’re a huge fucking weeaboo?” Donghyuck asks in return, and Jeno makes a noise like he’s offended. Donghyuck doesn’t know why he’d be offended by the truth, but there it is.

“Okay, let’s recap, though. You ran into him on the first day of school— ran into him! Who even does that? That’s straight out of literally every shoujo anime ever! And then he’s the student body president, which, by the way, I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” Jeno leans back in his chair. “Mark Lee is a legend.”

“I’m supposed to know this? How am I supposed to know what one kid looks like out of every other kid at this school?”

Jeno stares at him. “You cast a vote for him for student body president last year, Donghyuck. You don’t remember? You showed me your ballot just to prove that you actually did it.”

Donghyuck does remember casting a vote, but he’d honestly just chosen the first option on the ballot so that he could get to lunch more quickly. Instead, he says, “Oh, right. Mark Lee. I remember him, haha.”

“You don’t remember him at all, do you.”

“Nope,” Donghyuck says, adding a bit of a pop to the last syllable. His parents have always told him to be true to himself, so here he is, being true to himself. “Is it possible to be in love with someone you mowed down in a hallway? He’s just— he’s just so cute. And earnest. I love a cute and earnest man. He tries so hard, you know? To be a good person? That’s the kind of man we need leading our school at times like these.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually the worst human being alive. It’s one thing not to recognize his name, but his face? He even came to our class in first year to pitch us his idea of reforming our school’s standardized testing. That’s probably the only reason people voted for him,” Jeno says, and he sounds just a little bit amazed at Donghyuck’s memory. “I’m telling your mom you don’t pay attention in class.”

“You would never do such a thing,” Donghyuck says, giving Jeno a smug grin. He knows Jeno has his parents’ numbers in his phone, but he’d only call them for something important. His dad’s time is too valuable to waste on accusations that Donghyuck doesn’t pay attention in class at all.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno asks suspiciously. “What dirt do you have on me? Is it the thing with the noodles?”

“I’m your best friend,” Donghyuck says simply. “Also, the thing with the noodles. And because you love me.”

Jeno gags, but he doesn’t deny it.

 

 

The plan is this: Donghyuck is going to become the class representative of 2-2, which will give him the access he needs to get close to Mark and make Mark love him. Class reps work closely with the student council, and Donghyuck knows that they get to do things like tutor other students and plan events together. There’s just one small problem.

“I want to be class rep, though,” Jeno says through a mouthful of noodles. “You’d be horrible at it.”

“No, I’d be great at it,” Donghyuck retorts, more than just a little offended. “What makes you think that you’d be good at it, anyway?”

A bean sprout drops from Jeno’s mouth onto the desk. Jeno is disgusting like that sometimes, but no one ever believes him when he tells them Jeno isn’t the model student he’s always reputed to be. “I was class rep last year, asshole.”

“You weren’t that great at it. I could do better,” Donghyuck scoffs, and Jeno rolls his eyes in exasperation.

“No offense, but the one time Mr. Kim trusted you to carry our files down to the student council office you decided that it would be a good idea to use the boxes as sleds to, and I quote, ‘make the trip more fun.’” Jeno picks the bean sprout off of the table with his chopsticks, folding a napkin over it before he resumes talking. “And then poor Mr. Kim had to explain why students were sledding down the hallways in boxes of files.”

“It was worth it, though,” Donghyuck says. He still remembers the rush of adrenaline he’d gotten careening down the hallways. He’d gotten the class files to the student council in time, anyway, so he doesn’t really understand what the big fuss was about. First year was great. “I’d do it again.”

“And you wonder why,” Jeno sighs. “You wonder why.”

Unsurprisingly, when the class votes for a representative on Friday, it ends up being Jeno. Jeno wheedles Donghyuck about losing the entire day until after school, after Jeno’s met with the reps from other classes and discussed what they’re going to do for the coming school year.

“You waited for me?” Jeno asks, tugging his messenger bag around himself more securely and adjusting it on his shoulders.

“Of course.” Donghyuck shifts his weight from one leg to the other. Donghyuck and Jeno have always gone home together; Jeno’s place is on the way back to Donghyuck’s, so it just makes sense. Donghyuck’s probably going to join the football club again if Jeno needs to stay after school for class rep duties, so they can just leave later now. “How else would you get home?”

“You’re right.” Jeno grins. They walk together to where Donghyuck’s driver is waiting on the curb, and he’s unusually quiet even after they reach the car. He says, just as Donghyuck is about to open the back door, “I saw the tallied votes for our class, Donghyuck.”

“So?”

“I was expecting to see that you at least voted for yourself, but you didn’t get a single one. Did you actually vote for me?” When Donghyuck looks over at Jeno, his eyes are wide and his fingers are white on the straps of his bag.

Donghyuck shifts again, more uncomfortably this time. He never really wanted to be class rep, anyway. It was just a way for him to get closer to Mark, and he guesses that he’ll have to find another method of doing that.

“Well,” he starts, “I just decided that you’d be better at doing boring paperwork stuff than I ever would. I live for the exciting things in life, you know?”

“Like sledding down hallways in boxes of files?” Jeno teases, but then his eyes soften. “Aw, so you do have a heart after all. I was starting to think that you were going to let your sudden crush cloud our twelve years of friendship.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Donghyuck grumbles as he opens the door. “Get in.”

Jeno moves over to the other side of the seat before Donghyuck climbs in after him. “I really appreciate it, though. In exchange, I’ll tell you how you’re going to worm your way into student body president Mark Lee’s heart.”

“Lee Jeno, really? You would do that for me? Well, I guess you do kind of owe me since you took away the only other option I had available. I’m all ears,” Donghyuck scoots over as far as his seat belt will allow him to, and he sees Jeno grimace as soon as he gets close.

“We’re setting up tutoring schedules for students who have free time to help others out. I’ll probably be teaching history or something, but I heard Mark-hyung is going to be doing either writing or literature.” Jeno gives Donghyuck a shrewd look. “But you’re not too bad at either of those subjects, though. You’re only really shitty at science.”

“Wow, history? Maybe you’ll finally be able to use all of that useless trivia you learn from all your documentaries. But god, I know. Science is awful, I’d rather retake every other exam than take just one science exam,” Donghyuck whines. “But writing or lit? I guess I’m not too bad at those either.”

“I can give you the timetables for tutoring when we finalize them if you want. No pressure, though. I just don’t know if he’s in any other clubs since being president seems like it takes up a lot of time, and he’s a third year. He might be busy with university entrance exams, but I think you’ll be able to be friends with him at least.”

Donghyuck hums. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out. Give me those schedules when you get them, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll be sure to warn Mark-hyung about you, too,” Jeno mutters under his breath.

“How _dare_  you!” Donghyuck doesn’t yell, and he definitely doesn’t lean over the seats to bat at Jeno’s chest. “You are the worst beta sidekick ever.”

“I’m your _only_  beta sidekick— wait, what? No, I’m not your sidekick, I hate you.” Jeno crosses his arms and stares resolutely out the window. “Oh wait, my place is coming up.”

They stop in front of Jeno’s house, its trimmed rows of hedges and flowing water fountains imposing to anyone who hasn’t been there before, and Jeno clambers over Donghyuck’s lap to get out.

“My legs aren’t a stepping stool, asshole!” Donghyuck calls out as Jeno keys in the security code at the gate, and Jeno sticks his tongue out at him before heading up the driveway. “Yeah, real mature. Real mature.”

In a spectacular display of maturity, Donghyuck then spends the next fifteen minutes of the car ride thinking about how he’s going to pretend to be completely awful at Korean literature and how he’s going to make Mark love him. It’s perhaps his greatest plan yet.

 

 

All things considered, Donghyuck is a good kid. Jeno says that this surprises him more than anything else about Donghyuck, but he’s going to take the compliment at face value instead of thinking too much about it.

“No, really, there are so many ways you could’ve gone wrong. Like, your family has money and you’re passably cute and you go to a good school. You could’ve been a total douchebag, but you’re only around twenty percent of the way there,” Jeno had said one night after their parents finished up a business meeting together.

They’d only even become friends because their fathers had wanted to do business with each other, but now they’re friends because they don’t really have anyone else who understands the kind of lives they lead. There’s a gap between how Donghyuck is allowed to spend his weekends (learning the names and faces of the heirs of the biggest chaebols in Korea, figuring out how to eat with a full setting of utensils in a formal setting, brushing up on the latest news about which mergers have gone through and which haven’t) and how normal people spend their weekends, and sometimes, the gap between them is just too wide to reconcile. But Jeno understands.

“Hey,” Donghyuck had said, gasping with shock. The audacity of Lee Jeno sometimes. “I’m more than just passably cute.”

“You’re not going to comment on the douchebag statement? Really? The passably cute one is the one you’re going to fight?”

“If I’m twenty percent of the way to being a total douchebag, you’re at least fifty. That’s the only thing keeping me alive right now.”

Jeno had smacked Donghyuck, hard, on the arm, but they both know that neither of them is a particularly bad kid, as far as the heirs to multibillion dollar corporations can go. Donghyuck still helps his family tend to their tangerine trees out in the gardens whenever he can, and despite his fur allergies, Jeno volunteers at an animal shelter on his free time.

They’re good kids, which is why Donghyuck doesn’t understand why the tutoring room goes silent when he walks in. Most of the students who go to his school are similar to him and Jeno— even if he doesn’t know them, he recognizes most of their faces from newspapers and magazines about which child is going to inherit which branch of which family’s company.

Donghyuck pauses at the door, momentarily startled, and he makes eye contact with Jeno, who’s sitting in front of one of their underclassmen and helping her out with some history timelines. The conversation starts back up again, and Donghyuck guesses that they’d all just paused to see who just came in. Jeno’s eyes briefly flicker to the side before he goes back to drawing some arrows from one event to another, and Donghyuck follows his gaze.

There he is.

Mark’s sitting at one of the tables with some sheets of paper spread out in front of him. There’s a placard that says “Mark Lee: writing and literature” propped up next to him, and he’s drawn some watermelons with happy faces on the placard. They’ve been colored in with red and green colored pencils, and Donghyuck wants to cry a little.

He makes his way to the table, setting his backpack down in the chair opposite Mark, and he waits for Mark to look up at him. When he does, it’s with just a little bit of surprise as if he hadn’t expected anyone to be standing there in the first place.

“Hi,” Mark says, softer than Donghyuck remembers, and he pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose. “I ran into you on the first day of school, didn’t I? Sorry about that. I hope you weren’t late to the assembly.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine, really. I was late anyway, it’s not like you being there would’ve stopped me from missing the first thirty minutes of class,” Donghyuck says. “Thanks for the heads up, by the way. The one about how I’d probably get there after the principal’s welcome speech? I’m guessing that I didn’t miss anything too special?”

“If anyone asks, I never said this, but nah. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all, and I’ve seen it twice already. I asked if I could help direct any late students to the assembly just so I could ditch it. But once again, I never said that.” Mark leans forward and gestures for Donghyuck to take a seat. “So, Donghyuck, what can I do for you today?”

Donghyuck startles. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

“You’re Jeno’s friend, aren’t you? Second year, Class 2?” Mark asks, and Donghyuck whips his head around to stare lasers into the back of Jeno’s head. The traitor, he’s not looking back at him. “He let me know that one of his friends was having a bit of trouble in school and to be free today just in case the friend needed tutoring. I guess that’s you?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Um. Can you help me out with some Korean lit?” Donghyuck asks. “I’m having a bit of trouble getting started with some manuscripts and essays that we’ve been assigned to read, so I was wondering if you could help me kind of understand them a bit.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mark says, closing his laptop and brushing his papers aside. “What are you reading now?”

“ _The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyeong_ ,” Donghyuck says, pulling out the new copy of the book from his backpack. He leafs through the pages until he finds the section that they’ve been assigned to read for tonight. “I’m not really sure what this passage over here means.”

This is a lie. It’s a complete and total lie. He’d had to purchase a completely new copy from the student bookstore because he already has a copy of the memoirs at home. It’s well-worn and has sticky notes with annotations on it, and Donghyuck would be lying if he said that it wasn’t one of his favorite things to read when feeling particularly annoyed about life. Not that Mark needs to know that, of course.

Mark leans over, angling his body so that he can read the text. “Ah, so you’re starting with the Memoir of 1795. See, these memoirs are really interesting in that they all focus on different aspects of Lady Hyegyeong’s life, so if you just think of it as a story rather than an autobiography, it’ll make all of this material a bit easier to digest. Let’s start with analyzing how Lady Hyegyeong introduces herself and her natal family.”

The hour passes by more quickly than Donghyuck could ever have imagined, and by the time the clock strikes four, Donghyuck’s already covered all of the material he needs to know and more. Mark is surprisingly animated when he talks about something he likes, and it’s apparent when he describes how Lady Hyegyeong reacts to the news of Prince Sado’s execution or how she uses the past and present to weave together a coherent narrative.

Donghyuck has always liked music the most, has always loved to create something out of nothing, has always craved the feeling of having art appear in front of his eyes and around his ears, but he thinks that Mark might make literature one of his more favorite subjects now. Even his glasses and the way he pushes them up with his index finger every three minutes are startlingly endearing.

He says as much to Jeno when they’re walking out of the school, and Jeno scoffs.

“Whipped,” he coughs under his breath, and Donghyuck chases him all the way to the waiting car.

 

 

He meets with Mark every week for an hour to talk about what he’s been assigned to read. It’s actually easier for him to pretend that he’s never read it before, since he knows how to ask the questions that’ll get Mark to talk the most. Jeno is almost always there, tutoring some other students in history, and there are often other tutors and students there as well.

It’s on a day when Mark and Donghyuck are the only students using the rooms when Donghyuck tests his luck. It’s been almost a month since school started, which means Jeno’s birthday is coming up in just a few days. He’s probably at home to try to get homework done before he has to spend time with his parents. Donghyuck doesn’t mind, though. More alone time for him is always a plus.

He’s learned a lot about Mark in the past few weeks. He’s learned that Mark isn’t really from Seoul, that he was born in Vancouver but moved overseas with his parents when his father got a job in Seoul. Mark doesn’t eat fries with ketchup— he doesn’t eat anything with ketchup, either. He hates it, which Donghyuck doesn’t understand.

“Ketchup is great,” Donghyuck says, flipping through a collection of Hwang Jini’s most celebrated sijo poems and penning in some notes in the margins. “What do you have against tomatoes?”

“I don’t hate tomatoes,” Mark protests. They’ve moved on from tutoring to just working on homework together, and Mark has a study manual for the college entrance exam open in front of him. “Ketchup is just. Ugh. Why would you ruin a perfectly good fry like that?”

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just blaspheme in front of me.” Donghyuck pauses in his annotating to look up at Mark. “Hey, what do you think of this poem?”

“Hm?” Mark leans over, his hair brushing against Donghyuck’s forehead when he takes a glance at the page. “ _Oh, that I might capture the essence of this deep midwinter night and fold it softly into the waft of a spring-moon quilt; then uncoil it the night my beloved returns._  Isn’t this one about the juxtaposition of long winter nights the author spends alone with the short spring days she’ll spend with her lover?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I think the wording that Hwang Jini used here is really interesting, too. See, if you look here, you can translate the first line differently. You can also read it as _I will break the back of this long, midwinter night_. I think it’s significant that such a sentence can be interpreted in such different manners. Don’t you?”

Donghyuck looks up from the text, and he sees Mark staring back at him, his eyes large in his face. Oh no, Donghyuck thinks, he’s smart and cute and I would very much like to kiss him. It would be so easy to, so incredibly easy to, with the lack of distance between them right now. Donghyuck doesn’t do it— he freezes, and the moment is over.

“That was great,” Mark exhales before he leans back just a little, propping his cheek on his palm, and the moment is gone. Great, Lee Donghyuck, just fucking great. “You’re great at this. Lee Donghyuck, have you been hiding something from me all this time?”

“No, I, um,” Donghyuck stammers, and _why is he stammering all of a sudden_ , stop it brain, he wants to tell himself. “I thought it was a nice poem. Hwang Jini was really before her time. Her composition and choice of wording was unique, especially considering that she was a gisaeng.”

“She was. She was beautiful and smart and kind. It’s a shame that she passed away so early, but the poems that she left behind are some of the best,” Mark agrees. He shuffles some of his papers around before looking back up at Donghyuck. “Say, what are your plans after this?”

Donghyuck’s heart very nearly stops beating in his chest. “Uh, what? I mean. After this? I’m probably just going to go home since Jeno ditched me. What about you?”

“I have to go home and study.” Mark sighs. “The entrance exam is coming up in November, so there’s still around six months left, but it’s so stressful studying for it.”

“Where are you aiming for?” Donghyuck asks before he can filter himself, and he claps a hand over his mouth as soon as the words have come out. “Oh, shit, sorry. It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, I know a lot of people are kinda secretive about where they want to go.”

“Nah, that’s fine,” Mark says. “I want to go to Seoul National University, but I’m totally fine with anywhere I can go to for medicine. I’m not really sure what specialty I want to pursue, but I’m hoping that if I apply broadly into medicine, I can get into somewhere that’s mildly decent. I don’t know, I’m not super set on going to SNU, but it would be nice to, you know?”

Donghyuck whistles, low. “Shit. Good luck. You’re you, though, so you should have no problem getting into somewhere good. That’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Donghyuck. What about you?” Mark starts putting his papers into files and stuffing them into his backpack, and Donghyuck looks at the clock quickly. It’s five minutes before four. Almost time to go.

“I’m thinking of doing something in business. I’m not too set on any particular school, but my parents say that if I can get into somewhere decent in Seoul, they’ll be happy.” Donghyuck starts packing up to leave, too. He hopes his driver is here.

“Cool, cool. You’re from the MFL group, right?” At Donghyuck’s stunned look, Mark grins, slight and small. “Hey, did you think I wouldn’t know that much about you? Besides, I’m sure pretty much everyone else here has family from the Top 100 companies in Korea right now.”

“And you?”

“No chaebol family for me, unfortunately. I got in on a scholarship. All expenses paid for except books, which is a sweet deal.” Mark stands up, and Donghyuck takes it as a cue to get up as well. They push in their chairs, and Mark keys in the code to lock the door after them when they leave. Mark walks him to the curb, and as predicted, Donghyuck’s driver is idling there, a newspaper in his hands. He looks up and waves when Donghyuck approaches, and Mark starts to head off to the side. “I’m heading to the train station now, so see you tomorrow, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck grabs Mark’s wrist before he can go too far. He has an opportunity. “Wait, hyung, where do you live?”

Mark pauses for just a second before he tells Donghyuck, and Donghyuck’s eyes widen. “Wait, that’s far. That’s at least half an hour by train! You should at least let me drop you off, since we have a car and all. Besides, Jeno isn’t here to make annoying and snide comments about me, and you’ll probably be better company.”

Mark’s still hesitating, and Donghyuck turns on what Jeno affectionately refers to as his “disgustingly puppy dog eyes,” and in an instant, Mark caves in. “Okay. Thank you, Donghyuck. This is really, really nice of you.”

Donghyuck’s driver gives him a knowing look in the rearview mirror when he opens the door and lets Mark climb in after him, and Donghyuck very obstinately pretends that he sees nothing. They chat about how Mark is handling studying for the entrance exams (badly and he hates having to stay up so late just memorizing terms) and how Donghyuck’s family is pressuring him to go to one of the SKY schools (it’s annoying and he wishes they would let him do what he wanted).

“Still, it could be worse. I could be Jeno,” Donghyuck muses, which makes Mark look over in alarm.

“Jeno? Why?”

“I mean. Jeno is the second child and he’s also a beta, so it’s pretty unlikely that he’ll be allowed to succeed the family business. I don’t think he wants to, but it’s kind of sad that the option just doesn’t exist for him.”

“That’s just unfair. I don’t think what he is should matter as much as what he’s capable of doing,” Mark says. There’s a frown on his face, and it’s proof that Donghyuck has good taste. “As long as he’s happy, I guess, but still. You’re the oldest, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. Got a sister and two brothers, all younger. My sister might actually inherit instead of me since she’s an alpha, but it’s whatever. Whatever happens will happen,” Donghyuck says. “You?”

“I have an older brother, but it’s also whatever since not only do I not have any businesses to inherit, but I also hate math. It’s a win-win situation, to be honest,” Mark jokes, and if Donghyuck feels himself inching closer and closer to him, Mark doesn’t say anything about it. Mark then startles, looking out the window. “Oh, you can just drop me off here. This is a good area to drop me off.”

“Are you sure?” They’re still in a shopping district and they still haven’t quite reached the residential area yet, but Mark wants to be dropped off? Donghyuck has questions, but he’s not going to voice them. Not yet, not while he’s still barely friends with Mark. “Alright, then.”

Mark thanks both Donghyuck and his driver profusely, and he waves at them until they start the car and speed off. Mark, Donghyuck notices, doesn’t move from his spot until they’re completely out of view.

 

 

There’s a business meeting disguised as a party for Jeno’s birthday that weekend. All of the invitations, mailed out in heavyweight cream-colored linen envelopes, go out to a Who’s Who of the business world, and cars with tinted windows start showing up at the Lee residence that Saturday at five in the afternoon.

Donghyuck puts on one of his better suits, since Jeno doesn’t deserve Donghyuck at his very best, and shows up at the party fifteen minutes late, a full thirty minutes after his own parents have left to make nice with Jeno’s parents. Jeno gives him the mother of all stink eyes when he walks in, and he blows the birthday boy a kiss as he walks in.

“Look who decided to show up late,” Jeno mutters into his flute of apple cider, and Donghyuck reaches up and loops his arms around Jeno’s shoulder.

“Better late than never,” Donghyuck chirps, reaching for the flute. “Happy birthday, Jeno, you’re eighteen now. Give me some of that.”

Jeno slaps his hand away, scowling at him. “Get your own. What am I, your servant?”

“Nah, just my sidekick. It’s all calculated, you know.” Donghyuck plucks the flute from Jeno’s hands and downs the cider before putting the empty glass down on a nearby table. “Don’t worry, Jeno. Soon you’ll be the hero of your own story.”

“Unlikely,” Jeno scoffs. They’re silent for a bit, watching the colorful blurs of suits and dresses belonging to some of Seoul’s most rich and powerful, before Jeno speaks up again. “So, Mark-hyung.”

“What about Mark-hyung? Don’t you need to be doing things like socializing with other rich people and pretending you like them?”

Jeno gives Donghyuck a narrow look. “How have you been, anyway? How’s it going with him? Any progress? Didn’t I tell you he was studying hard for the entrance exams? Stop avoiding my questions.”

“I can’t answer your questions if you don’t give me enough time to answer them, asshat,” Donghyuck hisses. “Wait, let’s get out of here, I’d really rather not talk about this in front of the CG and MP kids.”

“What do you have against the CG and MP kids? Do you even know them?” Jeno asks, but he leads Donghyuck out of the main hall and into one of the gardens in the back. The sun is hovering above the horizon, casting long shadows everywhere, and Donghyuck suddenly feels very, very tired. They’re finally alone for the first time in a long time, and he feels like all of the faces that he puts up in public can be relaxed around Jeno.

“I met Na Jaemin once at a conference. I don’t know. Seems like your typical rich alpha heir, the kind you might not really get along with. Not sure about the Huang kid that he’s always with, but I heard he and the TTF Zhong heir are really tight, too.” Donghyuck shrugs. “But that’s not my problem. I think my dad tried to arrange something with their companies but didn’t really manage to work anything out so that’s where it ended.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Jeno points out unhelpfully, and Donghyuck flicks him on the forehead.

“Asshole, you asked me about them first, I was just answering.” Donghyuck sits down on one of the benches outside, leaning back against the wall. What can he say about Mark that Jeno doesn’t already know? Jeno’s known Mark for longer, but Donghyuck is willing to bet that he knows Mark better. “Mark-hyung is nice. He’s really, really nice.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jeno asks, sitting down next to Donghyuck. He prods Donghyuck on the thigh. “Really nice? Even I could tell you that. Don’t lie or anything. I want to know what you really think about him.”

Donghyuck chews on his lip, swallows some of the words he’s thinking of. “He’s— he’s smart. There’s this thing he does with his sleeves that’s really cute. He’s patient and I have no idea how he’s still convinced I’m there for the literature tutoring. Maybe he does know, I don’t know. Either way, he’s still such a good guy though, and I can tell why people like him so much. Do you think I’m in over my head? What if I’m just overthinking it and pushing too much?”

“What? No, of course not. Listen, I’ve known Mark-hyung for so long. He doesn’t really like people the way he likes you, I swear. I’ve never seen him so attached to another student before, even to the other student council members.” Jeno hums, thoughtful. “I think you should give it a try at least. If he didn’t like you, he’d let you know. He’s usually really straightforward about things, so I feel like if he thought you were being annoying or overbearing, he’d tell you.”

“I know, but. I dropped him off on Thursday, and I guess I realized that he has a lot of secrets that I don’t know about,” Donghyuck sighs. “He wanted to be dropped off somewhere other than his house. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“You have a lot of things that you keep to yourself that he doesn’t know about, too,” Jeno reminds him, surprisingly gently. “It’s not like you’re going to know everything about him after you’ve known each other for— what? Two months?”

“A month and three weeks,” Donghyuck mutters, quiet. “Not that I’ve been keeping count or anything.”

Jeno stares at Donghyuck, his eyes rounding at the edges and his fingers curling and uncurling on his own thighs. “You really like him, don’t you? You really like him.”

Donghyuck stares at the setting sun, watches as the sun dyes the sky in pinks and purples and oranges, watches as the clouds curl across the expanse of the sky like a stretching cat, and he thinks about how before Mark, he wouldn’t have bothered to notice any of this at all.

“Yeah,” he breathes out into the air between them, a secret that he’s been keeping to himself for the longest time, a secret that he can finally say aloud. “I guess I do.”


	2. dawn

Over the next few weeks, Donghyuck can’t help but feel that something between them has changed. He feels on edge, like there’s a tense kind of _something_  there that he’s almost afraid to breach in case it breaks. Mark is the same as always when he’s in the tutoring room, helpful and kind and there to lend a listening ear, but there’s a shadow under Mark’s eyes now. He looks tired, like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Jeno tells him one day that Mark’s been overloaded with student council activities and with his own studies.

Donghyuck wants to reassure him that it’s almost June, that summer vacation will be there soon, that he’ll have time to relax. He can’t, though. He feels an itch burning beneath his skin and the words stick in his throat whenever he wants to say anything, and instead of saying anything when they’re together, Donghyuck rests a hand in the crook of Mark’s elbow and he hopes that that’s enough.

They’ve moved from Mark helping Donghyuck with poems and memoirs to just sitting together as they work on their own things. Mark is flipping through his study manual as Donghyuck works on some math problems, and Donghyuck looks over at Mark. From where he can see, Mark has one mole on his left cheek and two more on his neck, and he unconsciously reaches up to feel for his own.

“What are you doing?”

Donghyuck drops his pencil right onto his math homework, which makes long lines of graphite track across the problems he’d been working on. Fuck, he’ll have to redo them now. Not that they were right, anyway. Mark is staring at him, his head cocked to the side, and suddenly Donghyuck has no real reason for anything that he’s been doing whatsoever. How is he supposed to say _I was just feeling for my moles because I saw yours and I think they’re really cute_ , anyway?

“Nothing.” It’s a lie, a dirty, dirty lie, but he says it anyway. Jeno had told him that night at his birthday dinner to keep his distance so he could gauge whether or not Mark liked him as much, if at all. “What are you working on?”

“Korean history.” Mark flips through some of the pages, haphazardly highlighting a line here and there. He’s mentioned that he’s decent at Korean history, but Donghyuck knows that he would rather not take it at all. “How’s the math going for you?”

“Ass,” Donghyuck says simply, and a laugh bursts from Mark’s lips. He raises both of his hands to try to cover the sound, but it’s too late. Everyone else in the tutoring room, Jeno included, has already turned around to stare at them.

“Sorry, sorry, go back to what you were all working on,” Mark says, quick. He waits until everyone’s resumed their work before he stops craning his head around like a meerkat and looks at Donghyuck again. “Say, are you coming to the culture festival?”

The culture festival. It’s held biannually at their school, once before the end of the first semester in late June, and once at the end of the second semester next February, and Donghyuck guesses that this is why Mark’s looked so stressed lately. It can’t be easy planning the culture festival, and although he knows that each club comes up with their own booths and ideas, Mark is still the one who has to green light most of the plans.

“Yeah, probably. Are you going to do anything?”

As soon as he asks that, Mark gets a small smile on his face, and when he looks down at his books, Donghyuck’s curiosity only goes through the roof.

“Mark-hyung, do you have something planned?”

“I might,” Mark admits. “I’ve heard that you sing quite well, though. Would you consider entering the talent show? We’ve got a bunch of people singing and dancing, and there’s a brief audition process to screen applicants, but from what I’ve heard, you should have no problem getting through that.”

God. Fuck Lee Jeno. Donghyuck is absolutely certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it’s Jeno who keeps accidentally-on-purpose slipping Mark information. Someday, Jeno’s going to get what’s coming to him for always telling Mark things that he absolutely does not need to know. Donghyuck’s good at singing, and now that he knows that Mark knows this, he can’t _not_ enter.

“I guess I might as well,” Donghyuck mutters, trying to concentrate on finding the derivative of cosine of x squared so he won’t be tempted to look up at Mark’s face. He fails, but the beaming grin that’s there makes agreeing to potential public humiliation all worth it.

 

 

Obviously, he passes the auditions. He sings “You’ll Be In My Heart” from Tarzan to the three members of the selection committee, and once the girl in the middle gets a starstruck look in her eyes, Donghyuck knows that he’s got it in the bag.

He’s so engrossed in preparing for the culture festival and trying his best not to fail his classes— not only is he determined to make the best impression possible at the festival’s talent show, but he’s also been informed that he’s disturbingly close to failing math— that he completely forgets that his birthday is coming up until on a Friday when Mark drops a small box covered liberally in balloon print wrapping paper and tied with a neat bow on his desk during lunch. He stares at the box for what must be at least a minute, trying to figure out just why there’s a present on his desk, when Mark says, “I know it’s a bit early, but happy birthday!”

Oh.

He’s right.

That explains why Donghyuck’s parents have been asking him who he wants to invite on Sunday to celebrate. Jeno is coming, of course, and he’s already invited one of the kids Jeno knows from dance classes as well.

“Jisung is so cute,” Jeno had gushed once, sprawled out across Donghyuck’s bed and idly doodling in the margins of one of Donghyuck’s math notebooks. “Once you see his cheeks, you’ll understand. Best. Middle schooler. Ever. Plus, I think his parents work in consulting, so they might be helpful for work, too. Spin it to your parents like that if they give you any shit about it.”

“All I want to know is— why are you drawing on my notebooks? And get off my bed. You don’t belong there. It’s mine.”

“It’s not like you were using them particularly well. Besides, you barely had any notes written in here in the first place. It’s like drawing in an actual new sketchbook.” Jeno had smiled, sickeningly sweet, and Donghyuck had known, in his heart, that Jeno was right. He’d been hoping that Jeno, and not his abject lack of concentration in that class, is really the reason he’s about to fail math.

Other than Jeno and Jisung, though, the rest of the invitees are going to be Donghyuck’s parents’ friends, as par for the course. They want to start expanding into telecom, which means they’re inviting CG, which means that MP and TTF are coming along as part of the package deal, which means Donghyuck has to continue playing nice with even more people he doesn’t know, which means Donghyuck’s mind instantly wanders to the forbidden question.

What if he invites Mark?

Donghyuck’s brain knows that this is fundamentally an awful idea, one that has very few, if any, positive outcomes. If he comes, Mark is going to be the only one where whose family doesn’t own a mansion with a garage capable of storing at least ten cars inside of it. He’s going to be completely out of his element, and while he’s respected in school for his hard work and determination, he’ll be treated as less than dirt in a place where only gross net worth matters.

Donghyuck wants to protect Mark from that, from having to deal with the shit that he and Jeno have grown up with— they’ve grown used to it over the past seventeen years, built up walls around their hearts so that the words don’t scald as much as they used to, but Mark hasn’t had the same luxury. Mark is going to feel absolutely awful there, and while Donghyuck wants Mark to be there to celebrate with him, he wants Mark to be happy more.

There’s no logical explanation for the next words that come out of Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Are you free Sunday night?”

Mark’s eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot all the way up, and Donghyuck wishes that he could somehow connect a few more neuronal impulses between his brain and his mouth because clearly, nothing is firing correctly. Thankfully though, Mark relaxes.

“Oh, I’m actually going to be a bit busy that night. Sorry, Donghyuckie.”

Donghyuck’s heart sinks, but maybe— maybe it’s for the better. The sting is only mildly tempered by the nickname Mark’s just given him. _Donghyuckie_. He likes the sound of that. “Oh, really? What’s up?”

“Ah, I— there’s something that I have to do.” Mark scratches his head, and that’s when Donghyuck realizes that Mark’s in class 2-2 and everyone is looking over at them, including Jeno, who’s completely turned around in his chair to stare at Donghyuck. “Anyway, happy birthday. I know it’s on Sunday, but—”

“Wait, how did you know it’s on Sunday? How do you even know when my birthday is?” Donghyuck doesn’t remember ever telling Mark this, and swear to god, if Jeno was the one who opened his mouth again—

“Um.” Is it Donghyuck’s imagination, or is Mark pinking a little bit? “Well,” Mark wheedles. “As president of the student council, I have some privileges. Privileges that other students may or may not necessarily have access to.”

He _what_? Donghyuck isn’t even sure his ears are working correctly, but stares at Mark until Mark’s ears start to redden. “You _looked me up_?”

Mark leaps forward to clamp his hands over Donghyuck’s mouth, his eyes darting back and forth, but no one except Jeno, who’s still surreptitiously stealing glances, is watching them anymore. “Shh! Don’t say that too loud! What if I get _fired_?”

Can he even get fired from the president position? Whatever. Donghyuck resists the urge to lick Mark’s fingers, because one, gross, and two, they’re not quite at that level of friendship yet. Maybe Donghyuck will tell Mark that he likes him after the culture festival is over. But for now, he maintains eye contact with Mark until he looks away and pulls his hand from Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Open it,” Mark mutters, tucking his hands behind his back, and Donghyuck tries to squash the tiny flicker of _what the fuck he’s so cute I might actually be dying what if I’m dying right now_  that blooms in his chest. Donghyuck unties the ribbon and peels the wrapping paper off of the box, careful not to tear it, before he opens the box inside.

There’s a small ceramic bear sitting on a bed of cotton balls and staring up at him, and it’s unevenly painted and glazed and Donghyuck knows that Mark made this himself. His heart feels like it’s an entire three sizes too big for his heart, and he doesn’t know if he can keep all of his emotions from appearing on his face.

“Uh, listen, I know it’s really ugly, and I’m sorry, but I really can’t draw or paint or work with clay at all, for that matter, and I did it in an art class after school that was free but I hope you like it anyway, but if you don’t want it that’s cool because—”

“I love it,” Donghyuck interjects. Objectively, it’s an extremely ugly bear. The head looks more like a lump of coal, and the ears aren’t even situated at approximately the same heights on the head. The right ear looks like it’s about to fall off, and Donghyuck hasn’t even started on how noodley and spindly the arms of the bear look in comparison with the legs. The layers of brown paint are uneven, and the glaze is patchy and makes some parts of the bear shinier than others. But there are moles painted on the bear’s face in the same places that Donghyuck has his, and fuck trying to keep his feelings to himself. _I love you_ , Donghyuck wants to say. _I love you_. “I love it.”

“Oh,” Mark says. He smiles, a warm and bright smile that lights up Donghyuck’s vision, and he leans forward to give Donghyuck a hug, and Donghyuck wants to remember this for the rest of his life. “I’m glad you’re not too offended by it. Happy eighteenth, Donghyuck. I hope you have fun this weekend.”

After Mark leaves the classroom, Jeno sidles over to sit his ass down on Donghyuck’s desk and leans down to give Donghyuck the most ill-intentioned grin of all time. “I told you so,” Jeno singsongs. “I _so_  told you so.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Donghyuck mumbles into his hands, but he can’t muster the vitriol required to deal with Jeno. He’s too busy trying to remember the feeling of Mark’s arms around him, and he is completely certain that he’ll combust someday if this keeps happening. “God, shut the fuck up.”

Jeno ruffles Donghyuck’s hair before he goes back to his own desk, and Donghyuck lifts his head up from his hands to look at the bear again. The moles on the bear’s face are a mirror image of his own, and Donghyuck pats it on the head before putting it securely back in his box and in his backpack. He’ll name it Donggu.

 

 

An hour before Donghyuck’s birthday party, Jeno calls him.

“Donghyuck, I can’t make it to your party,” he says, and his voice sounds clogged up, and whatever irritation that first bubbled up is gone when Donghyuck realizes just how awful Jeno sounds. “I’m sorry, but I already gave you your present. Sorry, I know you’ll miss me and my face tonight.”

“That’s okay, I’ve had enough of your face for a lifetime,” Donghyuck says absently. “Are you okay? Where are you? You sound like you’re sick. Or like you just got run over by a car.”

A beat. Then, “I touched too many cats and I forgot my meds.”

Donghyuck sighs. He should’ve known it would be something like this, and he’s not surprised at all. Jeno already has three cats, and he usually volunteers at the animal shelter on Sundays. It was really only a matter of time until he forgot his allergy medication, and Donghyuck supposes that it’s just his luck that that day happens to be his birthday. Now he’ll have exactly zero people to talk to as opposed to just one at his own damn party.

“I hate you so much,” Donghyuck mutters into his phone, and Jeno makes a sound like he’s been strangled. “Never forget.”

 

 

Scratch that, Donghyuck ends up having exactly one person to talk to at his party. The boy Jeno had told him to invite, Jisung, ends up being just as cute as Jeno had bragged about, and Donghyuck spends a good ten minutes pinching Jisung’s cheeks. Jisung, bless his soul, is either too nervous or too nice to slap Donghyuck’s hands away.

“Are you really a middle schooler?” Donghyuck wonders, patting Jisung’s reddening cheeks. “But you’re so _tall_.”

Jisung shifts, stuffs his hands into the pockets of his suit. It’s a bit tight on him, and it’s clearly been purchased and tailored a few months ago. “I am, actually. I’m going to take the high school entrance exam soon, though, and I’m trying to get into the school that you and Jeno-hyung go to.”

“Oh, yeah?” Donghyuck’s school is fairly well known— it’s one of the more prestigious private high schools in the area, and they tend to send students to the sky schools every year for university. The entrance exam score needed to get into their school is pretty high, too, but the admissions committee also tends to take a holistic view of the application. If Jisung is as good of a dancer as Jeno says he is, Jisung should have little problem getting in if he has a decent exam score.

Jisung nods. “There’s this one rapper who’s still in high school that I’ve heard goes to your school, too. I saw him perform once. He’s really, really good, and I thought it would be cool to meet him in person. He has a gig tonight, but I came here because Jeno said you invited me on his request.”

A high school rapper? Donghyuck isn’t sure if he’s ever heard of anyone at their school rapping underground, but before he can ask Jisung what the guy’s name is, someone else comes up to them and slings an arm over Jisung’s shoulder.

“Hey there, Donghyuck. Happy birthday,” Na Jaemin says, his smile sharp, and Donghyuck has the distinct feeling that he’s being dissected, taken apart by Jaemin’s eyes. He also has no idea why Jaemin is being so familiar with him when they’ve spoken maybe once their entire lives, and that time was only an introduction.

“Jaemin, right?” Donghyuck reaches forward to shake Jaemin’s hand. Jaemin’s grip is firm, and when Donghyuck lets go, Jaemin leans back as well. He’s heard a lot about Jaemin, and seeing him up close and in person only reinforces what he’s already heard. He has a handsome face and his personality is nice enough, but what’s behind his eyes is alpha through and through. Donghyuck won’t be surprised if CG ends up flourishing under Jaemin’s leadership in the future. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good. Just trying to get through school and make it to summer break, you know?” Jaemin shrugs, a careless motion that belies how much he’s clearly thinking about the next thing he’s about to say. “Where’s your friend? WYH’s Jeno?”

Donghyuck blinks. He has no idea why Jaemin is even asking about Jeno. They’re not even friends— Donghyuck would know, Jeno has as many friends as he can count on one hand, and he’s fairly certain that Jaemin hasn’t met up with Jeno ever since Jeno’s birthday over a month ago. He decides to play it safe.

“He couldn’t make it today,” he says, simply, and he thinks he sees something like disappointment flicker across Jaemin’s face. It disappears just as quickly as it had appeared, and Donghyuck isn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not.

“Ah, I see. That’s a shame, maybe I’ll catch him around some other time.” Jaemin shrugs again, but this time, there’s a strange tenseness in his shoulders. He turns to Jisung, leaning in to give him a quick hug. “I gotta go now, but I’ll see you around, yeah, Jisung? You too, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck watches Jaemin meander off to go find TTF’s Chenle and MP’s Renjun, and he’s about to ask Jisung more about his dance when Jisung gets called over by his parents. He stares at their retreating backs for a bit before he shrugs and goes to find and harass his younger siblings. He’s definitely going to tell Jeno all about this after Jeno’s done being rashy and congested.

 

As luck would have it, Donghyuck ends up completely forgetting about the Jaemin Incident until the culture festival, when he’s milling around the booths with Jeno, and they run into some students wearing the uniform of the school that Jaemin and Renjun and Chenle go to. It’s a private high school located on the other side of Seoul that’s more focused on the arts, and it’s common knowledge that the chaebol heirs that don’t go to Donghyuck’s school go to this one instead.

“Jeno,” Donghyuck says, slapping his arm, and Jeno flinches away, rubbing his arm. Bullshit, Donghyuck didn’t even hit him that hard. He’s just being a baby.

“What do you want?”

“Do you remember Na Jaemin? The one from CG?” At Jeno’s hesitant nod, Donghyuck continues. “It was so weird, at my birthday party, he asked about you. Is there something going on?”

Jeno’s face scrunches up in confusion. “I don’t know? The last time I even saw him was at my birthday, so I don’t know why he’d even ask about me. That’s kind of weird, but. Well. Whatever. Anyway, what are you gonna perform later?”

Donghyuck’s scheduled to perform at half past noon, and he’s planning on grabbing some food with Jeno at some booths before he has to go up and sing. He’s planning on playing the piano at the same time, and he’s rehearsed it enough that his sister and brothers can probably sing along to it. But is he going to tell Jeno what he has planned? Hell no. “I’m not telling you,” Donghyuck says snidely. “You’ll have to come watch me for yourself.”

“Come on,” Jeno whines, tugging at Donghyuck’s sleeve. They’re wearing their summer uniforms now, so it’s not as hot, but now that it’s noon, the sun is beating down on them more strongly than in the morning. “Tell me.”

“No,” Donghyuck repeats. He drags Jeno to a booth selling fried chicken and buys Jeno a bucketful just to get him to shut up. “Here, eat it and be happy.”

Jeno is quiet whenever he eats, and he follows Donghyuck obediently to the talent show seating area set up on the athletics field. Donghyuck steals a few wings and drumsticks from Jeno’s serving as they watch the performers go. There are a few dancers, but the majority are singers. They’re not bad, Donghyuck thinks to himself, but none of them are as good as he is. The third year student that’s just finished doing a cover of one of Park Hyoshin’s songs leaves the stage, and Donghyuck goes up. It’s almost his turn.

He finds Mark backstage as he’s getting ready. Mark has a clipboard in his hands, and he’s clearly checking over the equipment and making sure the performers and everything are all there. He’s the model student, the model student council president, and Donghyuck has never felt this way about anyone else.

“You nervous?” Mark asks, a slight grin curving at his lips. He taps the pen against the clipboard, a rhythmic pattern that has Donghyuck nearly tapping his feet to the beat.

“You wish,” Donghyuck bites back, and his fingers curl more tightly around the microphone he’s holding. It’s easy to be with Mark when they’re like this, when they’re talking to one another like friends. No, Donghyuck reminds himself. They _are_  friends.

There’s a keyboard set up on stage for him when he gets up to go, and when he steps forward from the wings and onto the makeshift stage, Jeno starts screaming _Lee Donghyuck, marry me_  and it’s all Donghyuck can do not to flip him the middle finger. He sits down, adjusting the height of the chair, before he rests his fingers on the keyboard to feel their weight. It’s not bad.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and starts to sing.

Donghyuck’s chosen to sing “Baby,” a song he’s really liked since it came out, and he runs through the chords he’s playing as easily as breathing comes to him. He’s not going to lie— he thinks about Mark when he’s singing, and he credits those thoughts as being the reason he gets a huge round of applause when he’s done. Well, those and his voice, of course.

Jeno looks up when Donghyuck runs back to his seat, and Donghyuck can tell by the way Jeno’s smiling that whatever he’s about to say next is nothing good at all. He almost considers telling Jeno to shut the fuck up in advance, but that would ruin the chances of being able to hear Jeno say something absolutely life-ruining and embarrassing. He lets it happen.

“So, did you think about Mark-hyung while you were singing? Did you imagine yourself singing it to him? _You know you love me, I know you care, just shout whenever and I’ll be there,_ ” Jeno sings, so loudly that Donghyuck’s surprised that everyone hasn’t already turned to see who’s making those screeching noises, and Donghyuck wants to throttle him. He was fucking right, his intuition is never wrong, he should’ve told Jeno to shut the fuck up when he had the chance to. “ _You are my love, you are my heart, and we will never, ever, ever be apart_. You imagined it, didn’t you?”

“No. What, no way, I would never,” Donghyuck protests, but Jeno’s smile widens, and Donghyuck knows that he’s blushing. “Go fucking die, I hate you.”

There’s a group of three girls going now, and they do a medley of some popular girl group songs. Donghyuck’s mildly impressed. Maybe he should try to convince Jeno and Jisung to do that with him someday. Jeno’s somehow acquired some fries, so Donghyuck reaches over to steal one. When he looks up, the fry nearly drops from his mouth.

It’s Mark. He has a mic in his hands, and he’s looking, scanning the audience, and when he meets Donghyuck’s eyes, he gives him the hugest smile Donghyuck’s ever seen on Mark’s face. Mark motions to the side, and the beat drops, and Mark starts rapping, and—

Oh. He’s good. He’s _really_  good, and Donghyuck has a feeling that he knows exactly who the high school rapper that Jisung idolizes is. Donghyuck loses so much track of time while Mark is rapping that he completely doesn’t even notice that it ends until the crowd erupts in applause. He only barely manages to stand up and clap along before Mark finds his eyes again, and Donghyuck is so whipped, he’s convinced that the heart Mark makes with his hands is for him.

Maybe it is.

Donghyuck finds Mark after he’s come down from the stage. Mark’s face is flushed from the exertion and the excitement of being on stage, and his hair is mussed up from all the jumping he did. Donghyuck wants to run a comb through it, or maybe his hands. He’s not picky.

“Holy shit, you were amazing earlier,” Mark breathes out. “Didn’t know you had a voice like that, but I’m damn sure glad I know now.”

“Nah, you were better. That was great, hyung,” Donghyuck says, amidst the voice in his head’s cheering that Mark’s noticed him. “I had no idea you rapped.”

Mark rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, a lot of people don’t. I just decided it might be fun to go out like this. Kinda show the school what I’ve been hiding from them.”

“So is this what you spend Sunday nights doing?” Donghyuck asks, and when Mark laughs, hiding his mouth behind his hands, Donghyuck knows that he’s hit it right on the nose. “Wow, Mark-hyung, didn’t expect you to be such a troublemaker.”

“I’m not a troublemaker,” Mark protests half-heartedly. “I’m just. Well. Me.”

Donghyuck looks at Mark. He looks at Mark’s cheeks, red with a deep flush, and his eyes, bright and luminous as always, and his hands, still gripping the microphone he’d used earlier, and he thinks that he falls just a little bit more in love with Mark every time he looks at him. There’s so much about Mark that he can find out about and learn more about every day, and all Donghyuck wants to do is to spend the rest of his life doing just that.

“Say, hyung, did you get what I meant from the song?” Donghyuck asks, sudden. Did you hear my confession to you? Hyung, will you be mine?

Mark cocks his head to the side, a gesture so _him_  that it makes Donghyuck’s heart sprout wings and soar into the sky. He’s so good-looking, so well-rounded, so _kind_ , and Donghyuck has no idea what to do with himself anymore. “What?”

Fuck it.

Donghyuck leans forward, putting his hands on Mark’s shoulders to steady himself, and kisses Mark. It’s a soft brush of lips, one that doesn’t last long at all, and Donghyuck has the brief impression of tasting watermelon on Mark’s lips. They stare at each other— one, two beats, and for the next second, Donghyuck can almost swear that their hearts are beating in tune with one another.

Then Mark pushes Donghyuck away, his face blanching and his eyes widening, and Donghyuck feels his heart sink through his stomach and his blood turn to ice.

“I’m sorry,” is all Mark says before he turns and runs away, and Donghyuck lets go of the breath he’d been holding.

It’s over.

 

 

Jeno leaves fifty-eight texts and three voicemails. Donghyuck opens absolutely none of them.

Mark leaves none.

 

 

It’s summer vacation now, which means that Donghyuck has absolutely no reason to go to school and see Mark. He also has absolutely no reason to get out of bed and do anything besides doing his best to become a potato covered in blankets. It’s also why, when he’s notified that Jeno is there to see him, he groans and rolls over and says, “Tell him that I’m dead and to go away.”

“Too bad, I’m already here,” a voice that sounds suspiciously like Jeno’s says, and Donghyuck peeks an eye open before immediately regretting it and closing it again. It _is_  Jeno, in all of his just-showered, fluffy-haired glory. Maybe if he stays as still as he can, Jeno’s going to think he’s dead and he’ll leave Donghyuck alone. He feels the end of his bed dip, and he despairs silently. “Oh, Donghyuck.”

Jeno’s voice is soft and tender and filled with something like pity, and Donghyuck is _not_  here for that. He wants to die, but he’s not here to be pitied by a loveless gremlin like Lee Jeno.

“Isn’t that you?” Jeno asks, and Donghyuck realizes that he’s said everything out loud.

“Kill me now,” Donghyuck whines into the air, rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “Perhaps if I die, then Mark-hyung will regret ever leaving me behind in the dust.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jeno sighs. He reaches forward to pat the top of Donghyuck’s head, scratching his head and tousling his hair. Donghyuck feels like he’s Bongsik or Nal or Seol, any one of Jeno’s three cats, or one of the cats Jeno makes a hobby of going to pet every weekend.

“Stop treating me like a shelter cat.”

“Is it working?” Jeno asks, and Donghyuck hates to admit it, but it is. He doesn’t know just what kind of black magic Jeno learns at the animal shelter, but Donghyuck already feels a lot lighter than he did the past few days in bed, and he makes a mental note to himself to make Jeno teach him how to scratch his own head like that.

“Unfortunately. If you could teach me how to get rid of feelings, that’d be great, too, thanks.”

Donghyuck is still, extremely unfortunately, a little bit in love with Mark. The ceramic bear still sits on his nightstand, and he hasn’t had the heart to turn it away from him. Jeno takes notice of it as soon as Donghyuck looks over to see if it’s still there (it is), and he leans over to pick it up and hold it in his hands.

“He made this for you?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck mumbles, rolling over and pressing his face back into his pillow.

“It’s—”

“Ugly, yeah, I know, shut the fuck up, Lee Jeno.”

“I was going to say that it’s pretty cute.” Donghyuck lifts his head up to give Jeno a baleful stare. “In an ugly way,” Jeno amends. “Pretty cute in an ugly way.”

Donghyuck sighs. “I thought you said I had a chance. Liar.”

Jeno hums, pushing Donghyuck over to the side of the bed and laying down next to him. Donghyuck knows that he should be more annoyed, but really, he doesn’t care. “I still think you do. He’s the kind of person to get panicky over the smallest things. I don’t really think it’s you. It’s probably him. You think it’s because he didn’t know what you are?”

“I don’t think he’s that kind of person, though. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s dealing with something else.” Donghyuck turns over and stares at Jeno. “Pet my hair again.”

Jeno laughs, but he runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair anyway. “Hey, remember this. Whatever happens, you’re too good to be crying over a boy, yeah? There’ll always be more fish in the sea.”

“I want the fish in the sea named Mark Lee.”

“Shut up, you might want it, but you don’t need the fish in the sea named Mark Lee. There are other fish. Other fish that aren’t rappers and high school presidents and cute with nice cheekbones—”

“Are you _trying_  to make me like him even more?” Donghyuck interjects. “Because it’s working.”

“No, my point was that there are so many other guys out there. You don’t need Mark. It’d be nice to have him, but you don’t need him.” Jeno stares into Donghyuck’s eyes, and Donghyuck resists the urge to sneeze directly into Jeno’s face. He doesn’t do it only because Jeno’s right in front of him and he’s being a fairly decent friend for once. “Got it?”

“Yes, mother,” Donghyuck intones obligingly, and yeah, he supposes that he deserves to get smacked for that, but when Jeno actually does do it, he yelps and chases him off the bed and around the room. It’s fun and easy being around Jeno, and that thought gives him an idea. He’s never considered it before, but now that it’s popped into his brain, it suddenly makes perfect sense. “Hey, Jeno.”

“What do you want?”

“If we’re not married to anyone else by thirty, do you wanna get hitched instead?” Donghyuck asks, and he feels like he should probably get a ring or something for this. Whatever, Jeno doesn’t even deserve a ring. “Like, as best friends forever, except we’ll be able to file taxes together. We even already have the same last name. It’ll be great. All of the benefits of being childhood best friends and all that jazz, with the added bonus of being a convenient way for our chaebols to get even richer than they already are. It’ll be amazing, trust me.”

Jeno contemplates it for a second before he shrugs, easily and lightly. “Yeah, sure, why the fuck not. Wait, hold up, I don’t even get a proper proposal? Me, Lee Jeno, second in line to inherit WYH? The cutest boy you’ve ever met in your entire life?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but he gets down on a knee anyway. There’s a ribbon on his nightstand— it’s the one Mark had used to tie Donghyuck’s present with— and Donghyuck takes the ribbon and ties it around Jeno’s left ring finger. It’s neon green and stands out hideously against Jeno’s skin, and Donghyuck decides that he likes this color on Jeno. “There you go.”

Jeno holds his hand up to the light before he grins down at Donghyuck. “We’re besties forever now, I guess. If I were really your husband, I guess I’d be offended that you were giving me something else another man gave you.”

“There is no man other than you in my heart,” Donghyuck says, placing a hand almost delicately over his chest, and Jeno fake-simpers at him until he stops abruptly.

“Okay, I’m leaving now. I’m glad you’re kind of back to normal now,” Jeno says, making a face. “I just came over to give you a pep talk and maybe beat a little bit of sense back into you, so my work here is done.”

“Bye, fiancé,” Donghyuck calls out as Jeno leaves, and Jeno gives him a final parting gift of an upraised middle finger. “Damn, what a catch.”

Donghyuck spends the next thirty minutes rolling around in bed, tapping away at his phone. When he’s alerted that someone’s here to see him again, he waves them in. It’s probably just Jeno, and Donghyuck starts rooting around underneath his bed to see if Jeno’s left anything behind.

“Hey, Donghyuck.”

That’s not Jeno. That’s Mark’s voice, and Donghyuck isn’t sure if he would rather look up to see Mark or if he would rather just sink into the ground and never reappear again. He doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter, though, and he looks up before standing and pulling himself to his full height.

“Mark-hyung,” Donghyuck says evenly, and he mentally pats himself on the back for not letting the tremble through. He has no idea why Mark is here— is he here to gloat? To rub it in Donghyuck’s face? Something along the lines of _haha, I just rejected you_?— but he supposes that it’s his own damn fault for letting him in without making sure who he was in the first place.

“Hey.” Mark’s hands are stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, and he’s chewing on his lower lip. Donghyuck hates that he thinks he’s still cute.

“What do you want?” Donghyuck asks at the same time Mark says, “Look, I just wanted to apologize.”

Donghyuck stares at Mark, and the chewing on his lip only gets more intense, and he can’t deal with this anymore. He’s tired of feeling like this over Mark, and he wants Mark to just fuck up and say something awful already so he can write him off as a lost cause and continue on with his life. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“Look, I’m really, really sorry for panicking the way I did at the culture festival. I— that was inexcusable. I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. I spent basically all of the last few days going over that, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was such a shitty moment for me that I’ve been totally incapable of sleeping.” Mark lifts his hands from his pockets to fold them behind his back, and he rocks backward and forward on his heels. “So I came over to apologize.”

“Wait. How did you know my address? Don’t tell me you looked through my student files again, because if you did I’m suing the school and then you for all you’ve got.”

Mark shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “Um. No, actually I just asked Jeno. He also told me the security code to get in through the back door so I wouldn’t have to deal with the guards or the butlers.”

Holy shit. Donghyuck is actually going to _murder_  Jeno someday, and it’ll still be fine because his sister can inherit. Jeno clearly has no qualms about sharing Donghyuck’s personal information, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to tell all of Jeno’s most intimate secrets to anyone and everyone who asks even the smallest question about where he is or what he’s doing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck mutters. “You couldn’t even call me? Text me? You had to come to my _house_?”

“I dropped my phone in the toilet and lost all of my contacts,” Mark says, sheepish. “The phone in rice thing didn’t work, so I’m stuck with a flip phone for now.”

As proof, Mark whips out a Motorola Razr from his pocket, flipping it open to show Donghyuck the screen and buttons, and Donghyuck stares at it. It’s bright pink with silver flowers printed on it, and it’s just as ugly-cute as everything else Mark seems to touch. Snap out of it, Donghyuck.

“Okay, where do we stand now?” Donghyuck asks, and Mark blinks. “I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I like you. Do you like me?”

God, he sounds like a second grader. Here, pass this note to the boy in front of you and ask him to circle an option. Do you like me? Yes or no?

Mark opens his mouth, closes it. He looks like a goldfish, and if things don’t end up well, that’s all Donghyuck’s going to call him from now on. “Okay, this is going to sound super, super old school and traditional, and I’m really sorry, but when I was growing up, I was always taught that relationships between two omegas weren’t really a thing.”

Donghyuck’s been following along, nodding his head in understanding, when he startles at the last words Mark says. “Wait, excuse me? What did you say?”

Mark blinks at him again. Maybe he needs some eye drops. If he remembers, Donghyuck’s going to get some for him for his birthday. “I grew up really old school and traditional?”

“No, not that. After.”

“Two omegas being in a relationship aren’t really a thing? Okay, if it’s this, I told you I’m sorry, but I freaked out because it’s just what I always learned. But if you’re okay with it—”

“Yeah, that!” Donghyuck wants to laugh. Or just die. He’s not sure which would be preferable, but either is probably better than having to deal with this. But also, newsflash, Mark is an omega. Interesting— he’d always pegged Mark as a beta, but he’s not too surprised either way. “When did I ever say I was an omega?”

It’s Mark’s turn to stare at Donghyuck, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. “Wait. What the fuck, you’re not?”

“No, when did I ever say that?”

“You said your sister might inherit because she’s an alpha!” Mark splutters. He’s turning a little bit red, and now that Donghyuck is fairly confident that Mark likes him back, he can fully appreciate just how cute Mark is like this. “You said that! That’s why I thought you were a beta, but then you made all this fuss over Jeno being a beta, so I thought that you were an omega for sure!”

“Oh, she might inherit if I don’t decide to. I only mentioned that she’s one because I am, too,” Donghyuck says, dropping the bomb as casually as he can and watching with no small amount of glee as Mark’s brain does a one-eighty. “Not that it really matters anyway. People who let things like that define who they become probably need to reevaluate what’s important to them. I’m still the me that you knew from before, omega or not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Mark says, and if the end of his sentence goes a little bit soft, Donghyuck doesn’t mention it. “I really like you, Donghyuck. I’m sorry it took me this long to say it, but I’d like you regardless of what you are. No one’s really ever paid as much attention to me as you did, and it felt really good to be liked. Your song was just— it blew me away. Also, for what it’s worth, Jeno called me a, and I quote, ‘useless and blubbering idiot’ when I asked him for your address. I’ll let that slide for now.”

“You better,” Donghyuck snorts. “God only knows how much shit I had to put up with because of you. No calls or texts, and you couldn’t even bother to ask Jeno for my number when he’s so clearly willing to tell you everything else.”

“Sorry.” Mark winces. “But hey, I wouldn’t make a little bear for just anyone. You’re _special_.”

“It’s cute,” Donghyuck says, and he moves a bit closer to Mark. They’re close enough to touch now, and he does, reaching out for Mark’s hand. It’s warm and soft in his, and he squeezes Mark’s fingers. “So don’t worry about it. You’re not a hundred percent forgiven yet, but let’s give it some time. I think we can make it work out if it’s you and me.”

“Are we— are we good?” Mark asks, a bit hesitant still, and Donghyuck leans up, leans forward, leans _in_ , and throws his arms around Mark’s neck, and Mark’s hands settle at Donghyuck’s waist. “I can, like, run outside and wait for it to rain and serenade you while it pours down on me if you want me to. I have absolutely zero qualms about doing that if that’d prove to you— prove to you that I’m really into you.”

“Nah, you’re fine. No serenades in the rain required for this. You gotta work on your communication a bit, but other than that, you’re pretty okay.” Donghyuck grins, and Mark laughs, and he lets Mark lean down to press a kiss, soft and chaste, against his lips. The sun is bright and shining through the windows, and it lights up Mark’s eyes and hair when Donghyuck pulls away to brush his fingers against Mark’s cheekbones, when Mark ducks just that bit lower to chase Donghyuck’s lips, when Donghyuck rests his forehead against Mark’s and whispers, “We’re good.”

 

 

 

(“Hi, Jeno! Mark-hyung and I are leaving you a voicemail because I know you’re literally never going to check your texts until three months from now. Hopefully, the voicemail notification on your phone bothers you more than the texts do and you remember to check this before you die or something.”

“Wait, if he doesn’t check his texts, is he ever going to check his voicemail? I feel like voicemails are a lot harder to check up on than texts are.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He’ll leave you on read for five days just because he read the message and forgot to respond. He did that to me once, and I swear to god, I thought he was dead because he didn’t even respond to my texts telling him I was going to call an ambulance to his place if he didn’t pick up.”

“Oh. I see. He’s usually really good about responding to me for class rep duties whenever I call him or text him, though? Have you ever considered the possibility that it might just be you?”

“There’s no way. Jeno loves me. He would never leave me on read without a good reason. Anyway, Jeno, I’m calling you to let you know that I’m breaking off our engagement. It only lasted about an hour, but I want you to know that those were quite possibly some of the happiest minutes of my life.”

“Wait, but I was with you—”

“Yeah, that’s the point. I wasn’t with him, and he wasn’t there to ruin my entire existence. Which, by the way, Lee fucking Jeno, thanks a lot for telling him my address. And the security code? Really? Do you have no sense of shame? Oh, wait, I know what to do. Hey, Mark-hyung, for the record, Jeno’s laptop password is tjfskfqhdtlr.”

“What the shit is tjfskfqhdtlr? Am I ever going to need this? What does it even mean?”

“It’s the name of Jeno’s cats if you type them out in a Korean keyboard and then translate that to the English letters that correspond to the keys. You might need it someday if I ever send you to steal some files from him for me. Thanks in advance.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s. Wow. I’m a little bit impressed, actually. Even I didn’t notice until you pointed it out, and I’m from Vancouver.”

“Yeah. I know. You tell everyone this every chance you get. He loves his cats more than he loves anyone, though. It’s kind of a character flaw. I should be the one he loves the most. Anyway, Jeno. Back to the point. I’m breaking off this engagement because Mark-hyung and I are together now. Sucks to be you. Guess you’ll be a cat lady forever. You should’ve trapped this when you had the chance to, now you’re going to get saddled with some asshole alpha.”

“Don’t say that. What if it actually happens? Why would you want that to happen to Jeno?”

“That’s something I’m willing to pay front row tickets for, if I’m gonna be honest with you. I want to see it. I need it to happen.”

“But—”

“Listen, Jeno is a snitch. What do snitches get?”

“Um. Asshole alpha husbands?”

“Oh god, I’m so done with you. God. I’m so attracted to how dumb you are sometimes, it’s not even funny. How can you be like this and be so smart at the same time? I don’t get it.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Come here, give me a kiss. Wait, come back. No, where are you going? Can you stop— stop running away!”

“No, I’m not kissing you if we’re still on voicemail, that’s just weird! Hang up and then we’ll talk!”

“Ugh, fine. Bye, Jeno. Have fun with life. Signing out, the cutest boy alive and his equally cute boy, don’t miss us too much!”)

**Author's Note:**

> whew if you got through all of this!!! thank you!!!!!!!
> 
> some notes:  
> \- a chaebol, if you've never watched a kdrama, is a large multibillion dollar family-owned conglomerate. think of samsung and hyundai and lg. yeah. the big bucks. bonus points if you can guess where the names of all their chaebols came from! (hint: i'm not that creative lol)  
> \- this is an abo where class doesn't ... really matter all that much except for hierarchical shit like politics and business. poor jeno rip. and they're all rich fucks except mark. he is our typical kdrama heroine, the one who works three jobs but manages to have a swanky apartment and the newest iphone. you know the one.  
> \- a brief explanation re: jeno's password, if you type out 설날봉식 (the names of jeno's cats) what it spells out on the english keyboard is that keysmash of a password that he has.
> 
> oops, sorry that my notes dragged on for so long! let me know if you'd like to read the memoirs of lady hyegyeong though, i think i have a pdf of it somewhere. 
> 
> for j & s & r, as always ♡ couldn't have done it without you! hit me up at my cc @jenuyu or twt! thanks for reading! ♡


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